


Lost Time Memory

by mythic0wings



Series: Heat Haze Project [1]
Category: Kagerou Project, Mekakucity Actors
Genre: Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal actions, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 18:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3421595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythic0wings/pseuds/mythic0wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when the only thing he feels he can do, is stay in his room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Time Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings, even though nothing in particular happens I do not wish to bring up anything you don't want to.

Curtains block out the dying rays of the sun. Filtering orange into the darkened room where not even the light of a computer stays on. He sits on the bed, clothes loose and heart aching in his chest. He is so young, barely an adult.

Red handles clenched tight in thin fingers.

Dark fabric helps him fade into the room, a hazy outline for a hazy person. Dull eyes examine closed blades resting in his palm. Dimly reflecting those orange rays. Another day, the clock ticks down. His life has become so listless; he dreads the dawn, sun, the setting blaze. If only time would stop. He has left the girl his heart wants-

Not that that would stop the hurting.

\- and mutilated the AI on his desktop. A coat so red only hangs gathering dust and moths by his door. Finger print smudges show on a dirty handle, no longer used to free him from his prison.

Would he prefer a gun?

He doesn't want hospitals. He wants a heart that works and doesn't steal his breath. He wants to have her back, wants to take back the words he threw at her. Words that cut her maybe more than they did him because she's gone now. Gone and never coming back. Her chair at school is empty, a vase of spare flowers marking where she should be.

Salt stings his eyes, lifting the scissors, ready to strike. Maybe, if he's gone he can see her. Just maybe.

Then he's grabbing his own hand, curling in on himself and dropping those red handles. Swearing breathlessly under his breath and fighting the tears. In the end he rolls over and curls up on his side. Wishing for an end he can't bring.


End file.
